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Events in Bayreuth

Most people imagine that lovely Bayreuth in Germany is a nice Bavarian town
With burghers trolling about in Lederhosen and yodelling a bit
En route to have an exciting eight or nine hours of dear Richard Wagner
At the Festspielhaus on the Hill, where they risk their eardrums being perforated
By the hideous magna-decibel shrieks of women weighing 25 stone in their undies
(and that's only the female audience members being goosed, I hasten to add).
But do not be misled, do not assume that is the case, ach nein, nein, nein.

Only a few summers ago I was there in this Wagnerian mecca,
Together with my butch opera-loving adopted German son, Hans-Dieter Sussliebe
And his pansy drag-queen boyfriend, Werner, Graf von Arschlochlecker
And we were taking a brief promenade, a glass of Sekt in each hand
(Christ, we needed a drink as the first act lasted three and a half hours)
When a little old man came up to us and said he had discovered
A hitherto unknown libretto by the immortal Richard W in the theatre toilet,
And were we interested in buying it as he was hard up for a Euro or two.
I glanced at the manuscript and was 200% staggered to find we had discovered
The long lost (and incredibly valuable) first draft of Wagner's greatest work,
"Der Ring des Nibelungen", excitingly and oh so exotically entitled
"Der fliegende Schwan mit einem grossen schwarzen Schwanzi-Ding",
Featuring a mystical bird the sight of whose black penile appurtenance
Would give magical godlike powers to the possessor, and which
(in its shortened form) would take twenty-eight hours to perform on a good night,
But which would have avid Wagnerites defecating into their Hosen.

I was on the verge of negotiating a favourable cutprice deal with the silly old fool,
When a horde of Jap tourists (who, driven mad by the deafening percussion,
had unwisely eaten a sausage-flavoured Brezel or two at the overpriced bar near the theatre,
and who were consequently suffering from terrible abdominal squirts)
Rushed by and accidentally beheaded Hans-Dieter, Werner and the little old man
With the samurai sword which Bayreuth tradition insisted visiting Orientals carry,
And grabbed the priceless manuscript to wipe their dripping Nipponese arses with.
Dear God, I shall skip Wagner in future and stick to Abba or Rod Stewart,
At least you don't have to hold your bladder for three hours minimum with either.
Or even a tuneless rapper even though you may be obliged to throw up lunch
As a natural reaction to the hideously primitive and egregious sounds.

Style / type: 
Free verse
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Last few words: 
Naturally, Edna is a faithful Wagnerian having several times been to Bayreuth, despite the eye-watering expense (€320 a seat and €12 flor a glass of wine) and the uncomfortable seats. guaranteed to do both your haemorrhoids and back in for a few weeks.
Editing stage: 

Comments

I now assume I must write maudlin, badly punctuated garbage before anyone comments.
So sad.

Edna
Poetess to the Stars

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